Solace in Shadow
by Hopeless Seeker
Summary: Ligistra Silvirin has joined Hogwarts as the new Non-Magical Defense professor, but will her dark past draw suspicion from one Severus Snape? Or will he find in her a kindred spirit who is perhaps far more similar to him than either would like to admit?
1. Chapter 1: A Lesson in Mediocrity

**Author's Note:** This story will probably hold a special place in my heart throughout its creation. Though I have been a writer for over ten years, including writing professionally now, it has been a long time since I wrote something for myself. I am a romantic at heart, but it has been at least five years since I wrote a story that was purely romance, and at least six years since I wrote fan fiction. This story is my own solace, the start of a daily sojourn I have taken for myself. I hope it will bring something to you, as it has done for me.

**Rating:** I'm rating this M throughout. Certain aspects of the Harry Potter universe are extremely dark, and with Snape as the main character, darkness is a given. Though it may not be present in every chapter, this story will contain scenes involving adult language, violence, and sexual situations. More explicit warnings will be placed where applicable.

**Reviews:** I am very appreciativee of reviews and respect criticism. All questions will be answered via email, and all reviewers will be given a nod when the next chapter is posted. You have my thanks.

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter universe and the characters found therein do not belong to me. Ligistra Silvirin does.

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**Chapter One: A Lesson in Mediocrity**

Severus Snape sat with his arms folded neatly in his lap, a placid gaze fixed on the headmaster. His body was rigid, his posture perfectly severe as his back barely brushed the wooden chair. As always, he was a picture of complete contrast from his colleagues who leaned in with piqued interest, exchanging warmly receptive questions and answers with the aged wizard. Some even went so far as to pleasantly sip tea, while Severus' cup sat, untouched and growing frigid beside him. Had the situation been anything but disgustingly common and predictable, Severus would have spared a moment to muse that they were quite foolish, expending energy on something so very droll. But such as it was, he could not muster the effort to care.

"… Defense Against the Dark Arts post will be filled once again by Remus Lupin. I am certain you will all help him make his return as seamless as possible." Dumbledore's blue eyes flicked briefly to Severus.

Perhaps several years ago, Severus would have flinched at this news; just the slightest, involuntary reaction. But he had come to expect the announcement would be severely underwhelming this year, just as it had been each and every previous year. The fact that Lupin was to once again occupy the post, however, left a bitter taste in his mouth. Countless hours of his life were to be wasted brewing the git's Wolfsbane Potion yet again.

"… would also like to announce the return of Non-Magical Defense, to be offered to students in their fifth, sixth, or seventh years who have received marks of E or better in all previous Defensive Magic classes." Severus scowled – an E was far too lenient for something which Dumbledore clearly believed to be a privilege. Even the most bumbling of dunderheads could manage an E. "Some of you may remember that this class was offered some time ago before being… removed from the curriculum. Seeing no further need of the Ministry's advisement in this matter, I have procured a skilled professor for this course, Miss Ligistra Silvirin. She is likely to arrive on the grounds this evening…"

The return of such a course offering would not please the Ministry. Severus could not hide the vicious smirk that twitched at the corner of his lip. He very much doubted this 'skilled professor' would be able to properly instruct such a course, though it was not as much of a travesty as the Defense Against the Dark Arts position being filled by a werewolf.

"Severus?"

He inclined his head slightly, the mention of his name pulling him back into the conversation. "Yes, Headmaster?"

"If you would be so kind as to escort Professor Silvirin to her chambers once she arrives, as they are fairly near to your own."

His lips pursed in annoyance, the words sliding through them. "A pleasure." Somehow their rooms always seemed to be conveniently near to his own. He briefly wondered if Dumbledore was taking some sort of security measure in making such a placement. The mark engraved in his flesh seemed to pulse at the prospect. Not strong enough to be a summons, no. Merely his own mind playing wicked tricks on him.

The meeting in the Hogwarts staff room concluded soon after, much to Severus' relief. He excused himself from more tea, biting back a remark on the stupidity of such an offer, considering his cup remained untouched, and strode out into the Great Hall, making for the passageway down to the dungeons.

The halls were barren, and Severus was quite thankful for the absence of the students who would not return for another week. Though he quite enjoyed catching them in situations which could warrant the docking of house points or possibly detention, he needed the solitude. The Dark Lord had been ever persistent over the last few weeks.

"_Come here, my boy." _

_As Severus appeared in Voldemort's inner chambers his demeanor slid into one of complete and unquestionable loyalty to the Dark Lord. He strode to approach him in an obedient but prideful manner, walking the line of arrogance and fidelity with which he knew all Death Eaters were enamored. _

_He inclined his head, taking note of a familiar figure kneeled at Voldemort's side. She wore the mask, just as she always did, even in the company of her brethren. He had been surprised that the Dark Lord had allowed her such a liberty of concealment, even during her initiation. But when talk grew, Voldemort had made a point of publicly humiliating her by removing it in the presence of every Death Eater he could muster, revealing a face so horribly scarred by flames that it was all Severus could do to keep his gaze upon her, not out of revulsion so much as pity. He had not seen her without the mask since that day._

"_Term begins soon, and I will be requiring your full participation once again, Severus. I need not remind you what will happen should I not receive it." _

_Severus knew he would be reminded regardless. "Of course, my Lord." _

"_In the meantime, you and Vera will draw the attention of Dumbledore's pets." _

_There was a time in which he would have reveled in the chance to prove his mastery of the Dark Arts against some Mudblood vermin, let alone the chance to do so in an attempt to draw out the Aurors. Now the thought, however disconnected, only made him think of Lily, and his stomach lurched. _

"_I will take immense pleasure in the task, my Lord." _

_The woman, Vera, voiced something to the same effect, her words muffled behind the mask. He couldn't be sure what she said. Likely it was something that would win her a lusty stare from the Dark Lord. She seemed to be one of his favorite whores. Regardless, she moved to kneel beside Severus, knowing full well what was to come. _

_Crucio. _

_Severus' body was wracked with a sudden onslaught of pain which, though its damage was externally invisible, was bound to be wreaking havoc internally. He felt a rib shatter, not for the first time, and was certain his blood was boiling within the confines of his arteries, causing their walls to deteriorate. No matter how much he steeled himself for the frequent curse, it never seemed to get any less painful. He attributed this to the fact that the perverse and sadistic pleasure Voldemort took from harming his followers never ebbed. _

He muttered a password, entering into his personal chambers. Dark and dank, devoid of any sense of comfort or sanctity, it was the second place in which he felt most at ease, ousted only by the lake on the school grounds. The same lake where Lily had come to him to apologize, in her kind, sincere manner, for the behavior of her Gryffindor peers. The same lake where her soft hand had settled over his, lending it a gentle squeeze that sent a delicious shiver up his spine. The same lake to which his mind had often wandered, despite his best efforts to control it, playing and replaying images of two bodies entangled together, making a soft imprint where they lay in the grass.

Severus scowled. The days of naïve, love-sick adolescence were at an end, and he was convinced they had not been worth it while they lasted. Lily had married Potter and bore his son. He had come to Dumbledore, told him everything to protect her. _Bloody lot of good that had done._

He crossed the room to a cabinet, pulling it open to display rows upon rows packed full of his personal potion stock. Grabbing one flask he swished its liquid a bit before removing the stopper and drinking its contents, warmth instantly sliding over his body, soothing the pain still lingering from the Cruciatus Curse.

_Severus watched impassively as the flames licked up the two-story flat, hungrily consuming the wood-covered exterior of the old building. The thin layer of siding was peeling away, crumbling under the might of the fire to reveal a brick exterior underneath. He swore impatiently under his breath. Muggle architecture was costing him far too much time. With another mumbled spell, flame erupted from the tip of his wand, swirling into a concentrated burst toward the wall where it slammed raucously, having the effect of several rounds of explosives nestled inside the brickwork. _

_He sent up a signal from his wand, knowing Vera would be waiting. He would let her handle the dirty work, under the guise of being a proper gentleman and allowing her to thoroughly enjoy herself before he took any such pleasure. The truth was that Severus had no interest in killing the young wizards that would soon flee from the flat, nor did he have an interest in provoking the Order, which seemed to be the Dark Lord's full intent. He would need to get word to them rather swiftly, he realized. Perhaps the Aurors could spare a few lives. He deapparated with a pop of fleeting magic, appearing outside of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. _

His solitude didn't last long. The accented voice of Minerva McGonagall entered the finite existence of his memories, and for a moment he wasn't certain if she had somehow managed to pick up and project some form of Legilimency. But as his eyes snapped open, he realized the fire had crackled to life. He also realized the dungeon had grown a great deal colder; the sun must have set.

"Severus?" She repeated, a bit more cautiously than before. She wasn't used to the Potions Master not answering on the first call.

He moved before the fireplace, staring down at the disembodied head formed fairly accurately by the flames. "Minerva." He answered flatly, as though he had been there all along.

"Professor Silvirin has arrived – Albus is with her in the Great Hall."

"Very well." He responded coolly. He gave her no thanks; merely turned in a billow of robes and strode from his chambers.

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Chapter Two: A Steel-Tipped Tongue will be up in a few days and is set to introduce the new Professor, Ligistra Silvirin, a woman who takes an immediate disliking to our dear Severus. And the Death Eater flashbacks continue.

If you've enjoyed this story and would like to track its progress and read some insights from the author, you can visit my blog here:

http://hopelessseeker. always you have my sincerest gratitude for taking the time to read.  



	2. Chapter 2: A Steel Tipped Tongue

Author's Note: This took longer than I had expected due to a recent time crunch during which I did not have the time to write. I had hoped to squeeze a flashback into this chapter, but it was not to be. I've realized, however, that I do need to bang out an outline fairly quickly or I will be lost soon.

Thank you to Bergerac for reviewing; I hope this chapter causes a few more questions as to the nature of Professor Silvirin.

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**Chapter Two: A Steel-Tipped Tongue **

Severus made no sound as he ascended the stairs to the Great Hall. Though the castle was virtually lifeless in its interval, he felt no desire to break the habit that had served him so well in pervading the privacy of unsuspecting students. He needed no silencing charm; a lifetime of walking in shadow had created a soft step and a calm, practiced demeanor – a demeanor that did not falter as he stepped into the Great Hall, finding the new professor and her welcoming committee far closer than he had expected.

As his gaze fixed upon her, his first thought was that she looked severely out of place. A woman of average height with a lean, muscular build, she seemed the product of a lifetime of arms training. She wore no robes, merely black leather pants with heavy black boots, a white silken shirt that buttoned down the front, and black leather gloves. Dark hair that presented itself as relatively straight at the top was weighted down by loose, natural curls, tied back with thick leather cording. Ice blue eyes, nearly grey, were a sharp contrast against her tanned skin.

Severus wondered why she hadn't applied to teach at the magic school in Spain, but that question was quickly squelched when she opened her mouth, a decidedly English accent forming words that answered something Dumbledore had said. "Thank you, Headmaster. I'm sure it will be more than suitable."

"Please dear, call me Albus."

She gave a smile that Severus noticed didn't quite reach her eyes, clasping the Headmaster's arm as he extended it. "Then I must insist you call me Ligistra."

The old wizard gave a genuine smile, his eyes sparkling brilliantly. He caught Severus' approach without even needing to turn to him, though he did so out of polite necessity. "Severus, your timing is impeccable. Ligistra, this is Professor Severus Snape, our resident Potions Master. Professor Snape has been a fixture of this castle for over fifteen years; a fixture without which I am certain Hogwarts would surely crumble."

Severus was not amused by the old man's attempt at humor, harmless though it may be. He gave a chaste nod. "It has been my pleasure."

"I seem to recall the two of you attending Hogwarts at the same time, though only for a brief interval." He took a moment to mull it over, somehow sorting through the thousands of faces nestled in the recesses of his memory. "Ah yes, I remember now. Ligistra was sorted into Gryffindor during your fifth year, Severus."

"I'm afraid I can only summon a vague recollection." In truth he didn't remember the woman at all, though he imagined she had likely joined in on the favorite Gryffindor past-time. His jaw clenched imperceptibly.

"I'm certain it cannot be quite as vague as my own recollection of you, Professor." Though her lips remained smoothed into a pleasant smile, her eyes held a challenge. Unlike Dumbledore, he didn't bother to correct her usage of his title.

"You must be exhausted," Minerva interrupted, placing a hand on the woman's back to guide her into a walk.

"I am, truly. I had intended to rest on the train but I found I couldn't tear my gaze from the window long enough to do so." She smiled again and Severus wondered just how much training she had received in faking social niceties.

"One cannot fault you for that, dear. The views are quite breathtaking." She stopped at the top of the stairs, the chill of the dungeons creeping into the Great Hall, swirling about the four Professors. "Merlin, you will surely freeze to death should you take one more step dressed like that!"

Her smile faltered at last, a feat for which Severus felt some victory despite the fact that it was not the result of anything he had done. "I'm afraid I neglected to pack any robes. They don't lend well to the movements of an Arms professor."

"A problem that can be easily remedied."

With little more than a mumbled word, a freshly pressed robe appeared folded in Dumbledore's upturned palms. The elegant black teaching robe seemed to be perfectly suited for her body type, following the gentle slope of her breasts to hang in a comfortable manner, the material adding an extra layer of warmth to her attire. Severus suspected Dumbledore had added a warming charm to the clothing, as well.

"It's lovely, Albus. Thank you."

"Think nothing of it." He smiled pleasantly once more then gave a final nod as though transitioning into the next phase of some unwritten itinerary. "Severus, please show Professor Silvirin to her quarters."

Severus' voice slid through lips pursed into a forced smile. "If you would follow me, Professor, I would be pleased to escort you to your chambers."

He began to descend the winding staircase, not bothering to make certain she was following. Her cordial goodbyes and the heavy sound of her boots hitting the steps was confirmation enough.

"Did you request your quarters be in the dungeons, or did fate merely spin it that way?" Her voice carried down the old stairwell, reverberating off the stonework.

Severus' jaw clenched a bit more. Surely she wasn't quite daft enough to bait him. "I have no need for an aesthetically pleasing dwelling, and as you seem to have overlooked, potions work can be fairly dangerous. I would prefer to keep the students free from harm." He inwardly smirked at the last remark. While it was mostly true, there were a few he wouldn't mind seeing come to quite a bit of harm.

Severus had finally stepped onto even ground and was walking with a quick gait down the corridors that lead to the living quarters. Much to his displeasure, her footfalls sounded closer now. Evidently she had caught up, despite his best intention to be rid of her.

"I wasn't aware working with volatile materials could be particularly hazardous."

Was she mocking him? The last time Severus could recall being mocked was when he was a boy. He had been furious then, but maturity had since refined his composure. It was not like a snake to strike immediately after being provoked. No, he would bide his time, until she expected it wouldn't come. Then he would retaliate.

Even without searching for it, he could feel the smug satisfaction emanating from every facet of her being. She wore her emotions so openly that it first caught him off-guard. He wondered briefly if she was perhaps projecting onto him – toying with his mind – but the thought was quickly tossed aside. She was an Arms instructor and evidently a very naïve one at that.

He halted abruptly in front of the door that was to be hers, forcing her to stop in a startled daze, her face only inches from his. He could see now that her eyes were not one color, but a mix of tiny flecks all brushed together over a spherical canvas. Blues, grays, greens; the storm of color momentarily distracted him from his goal, but he was quickly reminded upon seeing the smirk that tugged at her lips.

"Do not give me reason to become your enemy, Professor. I will not hesitate to do so, should you cross me."

For the first time since arriving, Ligistra Silvirin did not try to fake an attempt at being pleasant. Her steady gaze was locked upon his, her lips pulled into a hard line. "Do not threaten me, Professor, or I will make a point of crossing you."

Before Severus was able to weigh a response, she had brushed past him and into her room, pulling the door shut behind her. For a brief moment he felt as though he were hanging upside down again, his robes falling over his face. But the moment was gone as quickly as it had arrived, replaced by a cold, calculating sense of malice. Somehow she had managed to catch him unawares, but it would not happen again. He was no longer a child, ill-equipped to handle such dealings. She would respect him, or she would fear him; he had little care as to which. But she would not humiliate him. Not now. Not ever.

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The Death Eater flashbacks will return in Chapter Three: A Slow-Burning Poison as our vindictive Potions Master plans the best way to put Professor Silvirin in her place. 


	3. Chapter 3: A Slow Burning Poison

**Author's Notes:** Sorry this took so long in coming, it's a lot longer than the previous chapters. I probably could have broken it up but, eh, I'll just keep it as is. Still no flashback! It almost made it, but I didn't want to draw this chapter out any longer than it already was. So that will be in the beginning of the next chapter.

As a note, the point of view switches a few times in this chapter. Let me know if this is too confusing. I've separated pov changes with a double-hyphen in-between them.

**Chapter Three: A Slow-Burning Poison **

"Sit."

A blonde-haired boy of about fifteen sat in front of a large desk covered in a clutter of papers. He looked far too smug for a student in his position – seated directly in front of Professor Severus Snape – and the Potions Master was quick to rectify that travesty.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, it's just as unflattering to your features as it is to your father's."

Immediately any thought of this being a privileged meeting seemed to flee from the boy's mind. He sat with his hands at his sides, watching the Professor as his quill slashed through the parchment he had pulled from the top of the stack. The fifth-year Potions class had just let out; evidently he was getting a head-start on grading the two pages of parchment he had made them write during class.

"I've kept you behind to discuss a matter of some sensitivity."

The boy's eyes lit up, and Severus could hear all of the fanciful thoughts flitting about in his ridiculous head. _This is it, it's finally time. I can finally prove my worth to Lord Voldemort._ He remembered when he had been so eager. With his induction into the Death Eaters came the promise of power and respect; the two things he was going to need to keep his precious Lily safe from the darkness he knew all too well.

"Try not to look quite so pathetic, Malfoy." When Draco's expression slid dejectedly, Severus continued. "You have elected to take the Non-Magical Defense class, have you not?"

"Yes, sir." Taking Snape's lack of encouragement as disapproval, he stammered out a bit of reasoning. "Personally I think studying Muggle methods is a complete waste of time, but Potter signed up, so I figured I ought to keep an eye on him."

Severus barely managed to contain the smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth. Draco was attempting to sound pompous and important, just like his father. He would certainly have to put an end to that.

"While I admire your… methods of surveillance, you would do well to re-evaluate your current position on such 'Muggle methods'. Tell me, young Malfoy, what would you do were you disarmed and confronted by an Auror who had years of hand-to-hand combat at his disposal?"

"I—"

Severus waved him off impatiently. "While I believe it might be prudent for you to learn how to defend yourself when stripped of your wand, I am not certain the candidate the Headmaster has selected will be able to properly instruct you."

"I heard she's a Half-blood. Is that true, Professor?" Draco's face was scrunched in disgust, his lips forming the choice word with the utmost disdain.

"How many times have I told you not to underestimate your competition?" He snapped. Seeing the puzzled look on Draco's face, he quickly composed himself. His own mixed heritage had oft' been an inflammatory topic in the Slytherin Commons Room during his schooldays. He certainly didn't need that trend to continue now. "Just because anyone with a wand can make it into the Gryffindor House does not mean you should disregard their potential for power." Seeing Draco's expression slide into a more relaxed one, he continued, quickly changing the subject. "Now, this is not to reach anyone else's ears."

He nodded vigorously, leaning in.

"I do not trust this Professor Silvirin. When you are in her classroom I would like you to carefully observe her behavior. If she performs in any manner that poses a discrepancy with Hogwarts policy, you are to notify me and I will alert the Headmaster. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Severus gave a short nod that Draco read only as approval, not as the dismissal the Potions Master had planned. His voice quite bored as he returned to his papers, Professor Snape inquired: "Don't you have some manner of class to be getting to."

"Yes, sir." He gathered his books and stood, turning for the exit before stopping to look back once more. "Professor, I just wanted to say… I won't let you down."

"See that you do not."

As the door finally closed, Severus set down his quill and succumbed to the smirk that had been threatening to settle upon his lips throughout the entire conversation. He was quite certain Draco Malfoy would not fail at this task. In fact, he counted on the arrogant, self-important little whelp to go above and beyond what was required of him.

--

It was just after lunch when students began to file into the first Non-Magical Defense class in over a century, and as Ligistra silently watched them make a ruckus with a few choice charms, she began to regret her decision of asking the Headmaster to schedule the class directly after the students had re-energized from their meal.

Though a mix of students from all houses due to the currently elective nature of the class, the size was no greater than any other. Perhaps a few students more than the Defense Against the Dark Arts class she had sat in on earlier that day. She smiled in recollection. Professor Lupin had been very warm and welcoming.

The smile faded as one particular student walked in. Dark hair, glasses, and an unmistakable scar. She knew exactly who he was. But unlike most, her identification of him was not as The Boy Who Lived, but as James and Lily's son. Though she held no fondness for James, she remembered Lily as a smiling face who had once offered help in Charms, one of Ligistra's worst subjects while in school.

A pang of sadness hit her and she immediately reined her thoughts back to the present. It would do no good to hopelessly meander through the past, reliving one tragedy after another. So she waited, unnoticed at the back of the classroom until the very last student – a stocky boy with dark hair – took a seat beside the Potter boy and the same two companions she had witnessed him with during Professor Lupin's class.

The paper bird, she noticed, was still sailing through the air, kept afloat by the flick of a wand every now and again. It was an entertaining little trick that had been used to the exact same effect during her days as a student, but she had a trick of her own that might prove a bit more entertaining. Reaching down inside her boot she drew out a small dagger, deftly aiming it, her hand motionless, her gaze locked onto the paper bird. As it reached its apex, thrust upward by the momentum of another cast, she loosed the dagger in one fluid motion, sending it slicing through the air in a straight path that ended with the blade being partially buried in the far wall, the paper bird securely skewered.

The ruckus that had prevailed suddenly stopped, dwindling into mere whispers of amazement as the students looked on. One by one they began to turn, tracing the path of the dagger back to its owner.

"Welcome to Non-Magical Defense."

--

Severus Snape sat behind the desk of an empty classroom on the ground floor, his quill working over some papers he had brought up from the dungeon. An odd place for him indeed, as he rather abhorred working anywhere but in the comfort and solitude of his own office. But a fox could not be properly smoked out if there was no one waiting on the other side of its hole. Still, he knew if any colleagues stumbled upon him they would be highly suspicious, and for that reason he had waited until the halls were bare to duck inside, casting a concealment charm as soon as he entered.

Though his hand worked furiously, generously scrawling red ink over the parchment laid out before him, Severus' attention was only minimally directed toward the student's work. Much of his effort was concentrated on the wall that stood between him and Professor Silvirin, as for Severus it was not a wall, but a window into her classroom; the means by which he would teach her that crossing him was indeed a very bad idea. Severus flicked his gaze toward the wall as her voice finally rose over the din of students. No, not rose over – completely squelched. What had she done to silence them? He looked for evidence of a concealed wand, but found none. The lingering gazes of some of the students gave away the secret to her success and his brow furrowed. What ridiculous children these were, to be so impressed by a pub trick.

She wasted little time with introductions or explanations, showing the class a bo before beginning a lesson instructing them in its use. Her first several demonstrations were flawless, her actions full of purpose and grace. But by the third strike it seemed as though she had never handled the weapon in her life. Her hands became clumsy tools; merely a hindrance, her legs always in the way. The bo itself seemed unreasonably awkward as though it were curved several different ways. A smirk tugged at Severus' lips as his gaze settled upon Draco Malfoy. At least the boy was good for something.

--

Professor Silvirin grabbed another bo, noting to her class that the balance of a weapon played a huge part in its effectiveness. This time the Slytherins didn't conceal their snickers as she had trouble handling the weapon yet again. Only Crabbe and Goyle seemed aware of Draco's part in all of this. Everyone else assumed Ligistra Silvirin was merely ill-equipped to teach the subject.

After the third 'off-balance' bo she wisely decided to let the students continue the demonstration, pairing two Hufflepuff boys to practice choreographed strikes. She observed as they took their first strikes, their awkwardness the obvious result of inexperience. Her gaze followed the weapons as they were wielded a second time. Normal strike, though a bit wobbly. Fear-induced block, no strength behind it. Another normal strike, but… over-extended, pulled to the right, nearly drawing the student off-balance. Ligistra's gaze narrowed as she scanned the seated students, looking for signs of foul play.

There it was. The flick of a wand underneath the desk. She traced the instrument up to its owner – a blonde-haired boy she recognized as Lucius Malfoy's son. She stalked the perimeter of the classroom, always keeping Malfoy in the corner of her gaze. For the moment it was an asset that the boy was so thoroughly engrossed in his mischief-making. Finally settling against the wall behind him, she watched as his wand flicked again, causing one of the dueling boys to stumble. She shook her head. She couldn't stand these arrogant little whelps thought they were entirely above the rules because of their lineage.

"Enjoying yourself, Malfoy?"

The blonde-haired boy's body tensed, his shoulders squared as though preparing for the coming onslaught. She watched with a smirk as he slowly tucked his wand away before turning to face her. The expression slowly slid into one of annoyance when she caught sight of the wide smirk settling comfily on his face.

"Not particularly. You should really be certain you're not going to make a total fool of yourself before you elect to teach a class, 'Professor'."

Ligistra clenched her jaw. How dare a boy – a boy half her age – speak to her as though she were beneath him. He looked so much like his father at that moment, and Ligistra easily recalled how she had always loathed Lucius Malfoy, even more than James Potter.

"Stand up," she commanded through clenched teeth.

A flicker of amusement danced in Draco's eyes.

"Stand. Up. Mister Malfoy."

Her glare bored into him, scrutinizing his every move. The smugness began to slide out of his expression as he pushed his chair out to stand.

She leaned in close, speaking so only he could hear. "You want to put me in my place, hm? Teach the half-blood a lesson? Go on then." She inwardly smirked at the confusion written on his face before continuing. "Retrieve your wand, and have a go." She straightened, standing before him unarmed.

Draco continued to stare, then with a glance to his friends, reached for his wand. Before he could manage to form any words she had flicked her own concealed wand into her hand, deftly barking an _Expelliarmus! _with her wand directed at his. His wand flew out of his hand, landing two rows behind him. She quickly concealed her own wand once more, advancing on him.

"_Accio_ bo!" She commanded, one of the wooden staves flying into her hand as she continued to pursue the back-pedaling boy. "What's the matter, Malfoy? Not quite so tough without your wand, are you?"

She had no intentions of harming the boy, though the practiced look she wore suggested otherwise. She merely wanted to scare him a bit. Pureblood or not, she would not put up with the bullying antics of an adolescent. Malfoy was backed against the desk with nowhere to go. She smirked. Perhaps he would learn his lesson. She opened her mouth to say as much when she was interrupted by a familiar, distanced drawl:

"Cease your advancement, Professor, lest I cite you for additional damages in addition to those you've already acquired."


	4. Chapter 4: A Vile Retaliation

**Author's Note:** I apologize for the gap between chapters. Life has been particularly busy. Though in a good way, I suppose. I have been recommended for a position with White Wolf/CCP to work as a writer on their new World of Darkness MMO, so I have spent the last few weeks gathering material for my application. But today after being in a rather abysmal mood I decided to turn to the therapy that writing has always granted me.

**WARNING: This chapter contains non-consensual sex. Though it is not particularly graphic as it exists for the purpose of illustration and not for shock value (which is something I am adamantly against), but if such things offend you, you will wish to avoid the last flashback of this chapter, marked by **_**italics**_

**Additionally, up until this chapter this story has been fairly tame in terms of language. That will be changing. Ligistra is a very hot-tempered individual and you will see that Severus seems to bring out the worst in her. Again, if that type of thing offends you, this is your warning that it exists here.**

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**Chapter Four: A Vile Retaliation **

Ligistra Silvirin was seething. There were few times in her life in which she had granted anyone the power to make her feel completely humiliated, but today certainly ranked high. Her face was still flushed from her flustered state as she moved over to the basin of water resting unceremoniously on her dresser. As the water - rendered freezing from the miserable temperatures of her dungeon room – splashed her face she was thankful for the location of her private quarters. Not only was it secluded, but the frigid nature of her isolation was an even match for the fire that burned within her.

There was of course a significant drawback. His quarters, and the quarters of his ungrateful little clutch, were far too close for her comfort. She raised her head, letting the water drip down the contours of her face and back into the basin. Her eyes met their reflected companions, staring back through the mirror; grey depths behind which danced a dangerous flame. The longer she stared, the darker they became, until they were nearly black. She felt her own brow crease, but her reflection made no such movement. Allowing her gaze to widen she noticed skin that should be a bronzed tan had lost all color, now maintaining a sickly, sallow look. Her lips curled in disgust. She was staring into the face of Severus Snape.

Common sense escaped her, replaced by impulse and anger. She drew her arm back and struck the face squarely in its large, hooked nose, certain she would break it.

And break it she did; into at least ten different pieces, all sliding downward with the rest of his face. She smirked, quite pleased with herself, but the expression did not last long. Whether because of her disconnect from reality, or perhaps just a cruel joke played by the fates, the pain of her actions finally caught up with her, searing from her knuckles up through her arm. She ventured a glance downward and was not surprised to see her poor hand in such a battered state. Her knuckles were ripped open and bleeding profusely, shards of glass embedded in her skin. It seemed as though at least one bone might be broken, and when she attempted to flex her fingers she was answered in affirmation by the burning pain that shot up her arm.

"Fuck!" She growled, stalking into the lavatory and slamming the door behind her. Though there was certainly no one to intrude upon her privacy had she just stayed in the bedroom of her dungeon chambers, she suddenly felt the need to enclose her shame in as small a space as possible.

As she began to run warm water over her hand, her teeth grinding together at the intensified pain blinding her gaze with a flash of red, she was unable to stop her mind from wandering back to the events that had caused such frustration.

"_I am your colleague, Professor. You can't treat me like one of your students." _

_They stood in the empty hallway, Ligistra dangerously close to the man clad all in black. If he was at all intimidated, he made no show of it. In fact he seemed altogether bored with her. _

"_Perhaps when you begin acting as a colleague, you will be treated as such." He drawled on before she could answer. "I will, however, allow you the dignity of finishing your class."_

"_How very gracious of you." _

_His lips curled into a smirk, his dark eyes burning into hers. "Indeed. Though I would surmise that you have likely lost the respect of your students. Interestingly, I was assuming it might take at least two days for you to do so."_

"_I suppose you're quite pleased with yourself." _

"_Whatever could you mean by that, Professor?" _

_Her hands balled into fists, her nails digging into the flesh of her palms. "I don't care if you like me, because I certainly hold no level of fondness for you. But I will not be humiliated." _

"_It would seem you are perfectly capable of humiliation all on your own." _

"_Merlin, you grew into a right bastard of a man!" _

_He quirked a brow, genuine interest igniting in his coal-burnt eyes. _

"_I always felt bad for you. I hated James while everyone else adored him. But he and Sirius were right about you. You showed your true colors then, and you've certainly not shed your skin now." She knew she was being unfair even before the words escaped her lips, but her wounded pride did not allow her to behave tactfully. _

_Severus' eyes burned with utter hatred, and for a moment Ligistra felt as though her safety might best be preserved by taking a step back. Before she could make any sort of movement he spoke, his icy voice welding her in place. "You will finish your class, and then I will escort you to the Headmaster's office at which time you shall be appropriately disciplined for your cavalier attitude and the actions perpetuated by it." _

_He spat out the words, his gaze locking hers in a threatening manner. Though she pulled open the door to her classroom with far more force than was needed, she did acquiesce to his demands, finishing her first class as though nothing were amiss. All the while Severus' eyes remained fixed on her from the back of the room._

* * *

Severus Snape was tired of waiting. After Professor Silvirin had finished her class he had done as promised, leading her up the winding stairway to Dumbledore's office. When they arrived, however, he had suddenly excused himself, asking them to wait for his return. That had been over fifteen minutes ago by Severus' count, and he was past the point of being mildly inconvenienced. The only fortunate part of the whole thing was that Ligistra had remained more or less silent, though her scowl was perpetually locked upon him.

Ligistra opened her mouth to give some manner of quip, likely regarding the absence of her 'punisher' as she had done before, but before she could get the words out the doorknob clicked as it was turned, Albus Dumbledore finally returning to grace them with his presence. Severus made certain the old man could see the withering glare he had kept for the last – Severus looked to confirm – twenty-two minutes.

"I apologize for my absence, there was something I needed to tend to, and interestingly the two of you reminded me of what it was." He paused, looking over his guests. "My goodness, have you been standing this entire time? Please, take a seat, I insist."

Ligistra did so, leaning back in the chair with an indignant huff. Severus' lip twitched into a scowl. He would not play the old man's game. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the wall, keeping surveillance over the office.

"Lemondrop?" He extended a decorative glass candy jar.

"Well, given the circumstances, I think I will indulge." Severus watched as she selected a candy from the jar, popping it into her mouth. The smirk she gave him before she did so did not go unnoticed.

Albus leaned forward, his elbows on his desk, propping his chin up as he surveyed the professors before him. When he continued to do so, refusing to speak, Severus could no longer stand it.

"I have brought Professor Silvirin before you to discuss her behavior. Her teaching methods have already passed far beyond unconventional, and I do not wish to think of the harm the students may be in should she continue in such an undisciplined manner." He could tell she was trying very hard to keep her eyes from rolling skyward.

"Severus, I find it hard to believe one of our professors would intentionally place the students in harm's way."

"Lack of intent is not an excuse for such behavior."

"A fair assessment, I suppose. Very well. I will hear the events that brought you to my office."

Severus began to recount the petulant behavior of Professor Silvirin when he was stopped by Albus' raised hand. "Thank you, Severus, but I would like to hear from Ligistra."

He knew the woman's smirk was meant specifically for him and against his own measures of composure, his hands balled into fists. His anger continued to rise as she gave her rendition of the events involving Draco Malfoy. If he were honest with himself, he would admit Malfoy annoyed him quite enough to do something altogether similar for lesser infractions, but that was not the point. She needed to learn her place.

"Draco's behavior is certainly unacceptable, but your manner of dealing with it is equally as such. I must say I am rather disappointed, Ligistra. You came so highly recommended, and your father was such an honorable man."

As he continued on, Severus couldn't help the satisfied smile that twisted his lips. Finally she was feeling his humiliation, evidenced by the light flush in her cheeks. It was a satisfying feeling, to spoonfeed her a dose of her own foul medicine. His gaze settled on her face, reveling in her crestfallen expression, when suddenly his stomach constricted in memory of another time he had completely humiliated a woman.

"_The fact of the matter is, my pet, that every good bitch must be broken, lest she get it into her pretty little head that she has an inordinate amount of worth in my presence. You are replaceable, you are expendable, and you are useable." _

_The Dark Lord looked down upon the woman called Vera kneeled deeply at his feet. She was newly initiated and only a year past being of age. Her Death Eater mask rested firmly on her face, concealing her features and any emotion that might be fluttering behind the cold, formal exterior. _

"_Severus." _

_Severus approached from his place in the circle surrounding the Dark Lord and his newest follower. He knew what was going to be asked of him and it took all of his skill in Occlumency to hide his utter disgust. It was tradition to 'break' new members, which generally consisted of liberal use of the Cruciatus curse. But for women, especially those the Dark Lord felt might make fine breeding stock, he preferred a more vile form of humiliation. _

_She didn't cry, and he was glad for it. He wasn't sure he could maintain his façade if her desperate sobs pierced through his barriers. No, she remained perfectly still, wincing at the roughness that was goaded on by Severus' fellow Death Eaters. He had found comradery in these men, and yet at times like these they made him wish to vomit until he could purge himself completely of everything he had ingested since his own initiation. _

_She was planted on her hands and knees before him, yet still she held her head high. His long, bony fingers dug into her hips as he brought her to meet his thrusts. He could feel himself moving, feel his body reacting to his actions, but his mind was desperately trying to focus on something, anything to keep from fleeing as he was so wont to do._

_Severus felt physically ill as his body gave into its arousal, but at least it was a confirmation that the nightmare would soon be over. Without thinking of the possible consequence, he removed himself from her, stepping back. Her whole body was shaking. She was wracked with sobs, and yet there was no sound emitting from her lips, no tears falling from her eyes. This, Severus reasoned, was far worse. The deep, personal sobs that were shed from one's soul. _

"_You're a disgrace to your blood, Severus. Though I suppose that's what happens when your whore of a mother is allowed to fuck anyone she wishes."_

_He could feel the Dark Lord prying into him, attempting to catch his rage. But Severus had buried it deep below the surface. These were the things he thought on when he was ordered to perform an Unforgivable. It was ridiculously easy to become consumed with hatred when pushed to such extremes. And still his barrier was impenetrable. _

"_Continue. And if you even consider stopping before I allow you to do so, I assure you that you will live to regret it." _

Severus hadn't heard the rest of Albus' speech. It took all of his willpower to push back the bile that welled in the back of his throat. And for a moment he was struck by a harsh sense of guilt. His gaze settled on the downcast gaze of Ligistra Silvirin. He was watching yet another spirit being broken, her pride and independence violated by his insistent intrusion. Was it really any different?

Hours later he stared into the dying fire within his personal chambers. He could not help the sickening feeling that it was not any different at all.


End file.
